The rain didn't stop.
It softened into a steady whisper against the old countryside windows, a rhythm that seeped into the room, into my bones, until I wasn't sure if I was awake or caught somewhere between sleep and memory.
The manor had a way of swallowing sound. Everything felt muted…..the lights dim, tthe faint scent of cedar drifting through the cracks of the old wooden door.
I lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself this wasn't another fever dream or nightmare or twisted hallucination created by pain and exhaustion.
I was safe.
For now.
Apparently.
But my heart didn't quite believe it. It was restless, hot, beating against my ribs like it wanted to break free.
Finally, when the quiet became too suffocating, I pushed the covers back and slid out of bed.
